


Woman King

by EllieBear



Series: Evening on the Ground [2]
Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, Oversharing, sleepover, stranded in a blizzard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 01:56:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9694688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieBear/pseuds/EllieBear
Summary: Sequel to "Evening on the Ground".Veronica and Logan find out that they have a lot more in common then they first thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. You guys won. Due to popular demand, this is going to be a short little series of about 5 or 6 stories. Thanks for everyone who encouraged me to continue.
> 
> For those of you that know my writing, you know it's going to get a little dark before anything else happens. But don't worry, I'll balance it with a little fun in the next story.

Veronica watched the snow fall like diamonds past the window of the coffee shop, each one refracting the lights from the street, making everything sparkle and dance against the stillness of the night.

What was she even doing here? Maybe she should have gone home – taken Logan up on his offer to walk with her. But then what?  Her guard was down, for the first time in a long time, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating.   There was this feeling, bubbling inside of her, a need to know more about Logan. A need so strong that she was willing to put aside her fears, just to get more of a glimpse at what this man was really like. She never felt this way about Piz. Hell, she had never felt this way about anyone.

Logan cleared his voice behind her and she snapped from her thoughts.  She turned to see him carrying a tall pile of pillows and blankets.

“Wasn’t sure how cold it would get so I brought a couple,” he said and placed them at the end of the couch.

“Thank you,” she replied. “The windows do make it chilly, but it looks so beautiful outside that I can’t bring myself to close them.”

“Just a minute,” Logan said and he moved around the room, closing the blinds on the other side of the room, as well as across the door, before switching off a couple of light switches. The neon signs outside, as well as the lights towards the front of the café, turned off, allowing the light from outside to illuminate the space in a warm glow.

Veronica wrapped her arms around herself and smiled. “I love the snow. Not this much snow, necessarily, but, you know, generally speaking.”

“I think it’s a California ex-pat thing,” Logan chuckled, leaning on the back of a high-backed chair. “Once you experience a true ‘White Christmas’ in New York, you can’t go back to decorated palm trees.”

Veronica let out a giggle as she moved towards the couch. Grabbing the pillows off the top of the pile, she tossed them to one end, before throwing a blanket down to sleep on top of that night. She finished her makeshift bed with the rest of the blankets.

“Voila!” She waved her hands over the area. “That would cost me at least $120 a night in some small New York boutique hotel.”

“Well, I should let you crash,” Logan said, taking a few steps away from the chair and stretching his arms over his head, his back arching as he yawned.

At some point, he had shed his apron, and his brown Henley rose slightly, flashing a few inches of his abs, along with the slightest line of hair trailing from his navel down past his belt buckle.

Veronica swallowed hard and adjusted her gaze back up to his face. “I think I may stay up and watch the snow. I really did have too much coffee today.”

Logan nodded with a laugh. “Back-to-back all-day Americanos will do that to a person.”

Toeing off her boots, she sat on the couch, near her pillows, gathering her legs up beside her on the cushions. “If you aren’t too tired, maybe we can talk some more? I mean, I don’t run into many people from Cali out here. Kind of makes me homesick.”

“Yes! I mean, sure,” he said with more than a hint of excitement to his voice. “But first, let me make you something to help with the Americano overdose.”

Jogging behind the counter, Logan grabbed a jug of milk from the fridge. Pouring it into a metal measuring cup, he turned on the espresso machine and began frothing the liquid. A few seconds later, he poured it into two cups and shook some powdered chocolate over the top. Picking them up, he came back and placed one cup in front of Veronica, on the coffee table.

“Mrs. Navarro’s cure-all special,” he said, sliding into the chair across from her and kicking off his sneakers. “She made it for me every night when I first moved in here.”

Veronica picked up her milk, cradling it in her hands. “Is she the owner? I’ve seen her and an older man in the mornings. And some blond dude.”

“The ‘blond dude’ is my buddy Dick. He followed me out from L.A. after he graduated. He’s lives in a frat house and goes to NYU as well,” Logan chuckled and took a sip of his milk. “Mr. and Mrs. Navarro own the place. Their son was a pilot in the Navy. He died a couple of years before I showed up. He used to help them around here.”

“Oh, that’s terrible. To lose a child is tragic,” she said.

“Yeah. I think Mrs. Navarro needed someone to mother,” he replied quietly. “And I guess I needed someone who would take care of me too. My parents sort of sucked at that.”

Veronica met his eyes. “I get it. My mom drank, and she tried to be a good mom, before she left me and my dad, that is.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitched up into an ironic smile. “We are just determined to overshare with each other, aren’t we?”

She bit her lip, curling on arm around herself, protectively. “I…I don’t know why. Maybe it’s kind of like that thing where you’ll share intimate details of your life with a complete stranger on an airplane, but wouldn’t tell the same stuff to a loved one.”

“Because you don’t care what I think,” he added. “I have no emotional stake in what you say.”

“True,” she said, letting their words linger a moment as they both took long sips of their drinks.

“So to summarize,” Logan began. “We’re both motherless children, we both had traumatic childhoods. Anything else you want to share? Care to complain about your ex some more?”

Veronica pulled her palm down her face, groaning slightly. “God. Piz was such a goober. I’m sure if it wasn’t for…” she paused, trying to decide how far she would take this conversation.

“I stayed with him because it was easy. Safe. I let him get away with shit because I didn’t feel safe living alone in the city and I didn’t want him to leave,” she admitted, mainly to herself, for the first time. “But the truth is, I really didn’t need him. I should have just faced my fears on my own instead of staying with someone I didn’t really love.”

Putting down the cup, Veronica pulled her knees up to her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs, her mind wandering to that dark place in her head, that held fast to the night she was raped. She would show them all how strong she could be. She would survive. While the men who did it walked free, with only 9-months in jail, she would show them by becoming a lawyer and making sure no one else would have to watch their rich-boy-rapists walk free on time-served.

“It was bad,” Logan’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Whatever scared you so much.”

“Yeah,” she said, turning to look out the window. “Real bad.”

“The first year I was here,” Logan said. “I had a fear that my dad would track me down and kill me. Every time that front door opened, I expected to see his face.”

Veronica focused on Logan again, catching his eye. For a split second, it was like looking in a mirror. The deep imprinted fear that she saw in her own eyes each morning, was now in his. He knew her terror, in his own way. This knowledge made her bold.

“My dad, he lost his job because of me,” she began hesitantly, her jaw clenching. “He was the county Sheriff. First on the scene when someone called an ambulance for me. He wouldn’t let it rest until the guys who attacked me were behind bars. Their fathers were rich and they destroyed my dad – ran him out of office. All because their sons thought it would be ‘fun’ to drug and rape me at a party.”

“Jesus,” Logan murmured, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” Veronica said, hardening her emotions to keep them from spilling over any more than they already did. “I don’t usually lead with that story, but I thought you may…understand…you know?”

“Yeah. I know,” he said, making eye contact with her once more. “It’s like you’re walking around, trying to be a normal human being, but really, there’s this whole other scarred and damaged person living just under your skin, that no one knows about but you.”

“Yes,” she gasped, bringing her hand to her chest. “That’s exactly what it’s like.”

He pulled his hands in his sleeves again, leaning his elbows onto his knees, his body rocking slightly. “I’ve never met anyone who got that before.”

“I tried to explain it to Piz, but all he said was I would get over it, eventually,” she said, giving a small snort. “Like it was the flu, not rape.”

“He really was a winner, wasn’t he?” Logan chuckled. “I don’t even know him and I don’t like him.”

Veronica let out a laugh and stretched her legs out across to the coffee table. “I’m in school and working all the time, and he would get all pouty and upset that I couldn’t go to his band’s gigs. Not because he wanted me there, but because he needed help with his gear.”

Logan let out a deep laugh, covering his eyes. “Oh man! He couldn’t carry his gear?”

“No! He didn’t want to make a few trips to the van, so I would carry his guitars and he would carry his amp and peddles and stuff,” she giggled, before letting out a sigh. “I guess it wasn’t all bad. He was one of only three friends who stuck by me after everything went down. It was sort of inevitable that we would get together.”

“Okay, I’ll give him a few nice guy points for sticking by you,” Logan said, stretching back in his chair, he propped his feet up on the coffee table just inches from Veronica’s legs.

Noticing the proximity of their limbs, Veronica resisted the sudden urge to move her feet closer to him, instead crossing them at her ankles, and giving her woolly socks a wiggle.

“So what about your love life?” she asked, stretching her arms across the back of the couch. “A guy like you must have at least a few tales from the romantic trenches.”

Logan’s head dropped and his eyes darted to the side. “I…it’s complicated…”

He’s gay. If course, he was too pretty to be straight. He’s gay and he’s hooking up with that dude, Dick, Veronica thought.

“Look, I get it. If you don’t want to share –”

“No, it’s just…I’m a bit of a slut when it comes to women,” he said, keeping his eyes down. “Commitment to one girl is not my strong suit.”

“Oh,” she replied, hearing the disappointment in her own voice.

“It’s not…I’m not the one who cheats,” he explained, lifting his eyes to meet hers. “I just kind of got my heart stomped on so I tend to stay away from commitment.”

She had to know. “What happened?” she whispered, her eyes growing wide with interest.

Logan took a deep breath, placing his hands firmly on the arm rests of the chair. “My girlfriend in L.A., Lilly, was a year older than me. I found out, just before my mom died, that she was cheating on me with my dad. Mom died. I left. Then my dad and my ex-girlfriend got married when she turned 18.”

Veronica’s mouth dropped open. His dad must be the actor Aaron Echolls. She remembered reading about the scandal in People Magazine. It was rumored that his wife, Lynn Echolls, committed suicide because of his affair with the girl.

“You’re Logan Echolls,” she said quietly.

He chuckled, leaning his head back against the headrest. “Logan Evans, now. I take it you’ve heard the tabloid version of my heartbreak.”

“Yeah,” Veronica cringed. “My dad was a huge fan of Aaron Echolls’ films. He was kind of devastated by the story.”

“Join the club,” Logan replied.

“I could see why you gave up on the idea of commitment,” she said.

“Oh, I say that, but I don’t know,” he said, giving her a wry smile. “Maybe the right girl will come along and change my mind. Make me toss my hat into the ring again, so to speak.”

The stillness from outside slipped into the room, blanketing everything in silence. For a moment, Veronica held his gaze as she tried to maintain her composure. Was he talking about her? Was she the ‘right’ girl?

“I hope so,” she murmured.

“What?”

Veronica blushed deeply, realizing she had actually spoken out loud, the words she was thinking.

“I mean, I hope you find her. The ‘right’ girl.” She quickly corrected.

Logan nodded, pulling his legs to the ground he stood, smiling softly at Veronica. “I should probably get some sleep. It’s 2 a.m. and I have to wake up at 5:30 to start getting the café ready to open.”

Veronica scrambled to her feet. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for the warm milk. And conversation.”

“Anytime,” he said, before walking over to the window and closing the blinds.

Turning in the darkness, he paused for a moment, as if he had something more to say.

Kiss him! Veronica’s heart began screaming at her. But it was her brain that kept her feet rooted to their spot on the floor.

“Good night Logan,” she said quietly.

“Good night Veronica,” he replied before making his way out the door to the kitchen. She could hear his footsteps in the silence as he walked up stairs to his place.

Flopping down onto the couch, Veronica grasped her chest. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel her ribs vibrating. He was beautiful. He was funny. He was kind. He was damaged.

He was her.

Sliding under the mountain of blankets, she closed her eyes tightly. Every night, she went to bed with fear in her heart. Tonight, she was scared for a totally different reason.

**Author's Note:**

> "The Woman King" is another beautiful song by Iron & Wine.


End file.
